


Give and Take

by Hammocker



Series: Pure Oswald/Victor Works [3]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Corny, Dancing, Declarations Of Love, Disco, Fluff, M/M, Sappy, Songfic, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 01:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6136757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hammocker/pseuds/Hammocker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victor was good at very many things. Murder, breaking and entering, dancing. Expressing emotion, however, was not included in that list thus he had to employ unusual methods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give and Take

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, God, I've never been more embarrassed while posting something. I promised myself that I wouldn't write things like this, that I'd be professional and not write corny in concept fics like these. Yet here we are. I hope you're not as horrified as I am by this.

Oswald was headed down towards his manor’s makeshift dance hall. He and Victor had taken to setting aside time every week to dance. Sometimes they went out, but with Oswald busier than ever, staying in had become more practical. They’d expanded their range of styles since their initial get-together. Sometimes they waltzed, sometimes they tangoed, sometimes they improvised, but Victor still held a preference for his hustle. Which, from the sound coming from their room, was what he wanted to do that day.

The door in was ajar and a tune was already flowing out into the hallway, all synth-y guitars and a smooth backbeat. Not exactly the disco Victor usually preferred, but close. Odd. They usually picked out music together, and they never started it until both of them were present. Oswald pushed the door open just as the vocalist began his falsetto lead.

_You and me been finding each other for so long_

Victor was stood in the middle of the room. He wasn’t exactly dancing, but he was bobbing his head and shoulders. To Oswald’s surprise, he was actually wearing a shirt for once. Not even just a shirt, but a suit jacket and pants as well. He looked damn near presentable. If that wasn’t enough his lips were tight and he didn’t snap his eyes to Oswald as he entered the room. Best as he could gather, Victor was out of the hunter mentality he defaulted to. Altogether, he seemed a little suppressed.

He gave Oswald a sincere, yet unusually gentle smile. Without a word, Victor offered a hand to Oswald. A bit lost for words himself, Oswald stepped over to him and took his invitation. Victor put his free arm around Oswald’s back and once he had reciprocated, began to their routine.

_And the feeling that I feel for you is more than strong_

It wasn’t quite a slow dance - the tempo of the music wasn’t truly slow - but it wasn’t nearly as fast-paced as Victor’s usual maneuver-heavy hustling. Each step was paced so that they had time to gaze at each other rather than watching their footwork carefully. And gaze at him Victor did, through unusually half-lidded eyes. It was refreshing to not feel like Victor was about to pounce on him, but, at the same time, it was unnerving and even disappointing. He’d grown accustomed to Victor animalistic domination, even enjoyed it. For once, Victor seemed like he had something on his mind, something that he wanted to say, but was holding it back. Unless he was doing some kind of pheromone communications that he’d failed to explain.

_I would wait forever for those lips of wine  
Build my world around you, darling, this love will shine_

At least the music was nice, albeit, even more campy than Victor’s usual fare. Oswald couldn’t say in all truth that disco hadn’t grown on him in their months together. While it was still not his music of choice, he could keep up with Victor well enough. Especially now, seeing how little Victor was asking of him in terms of movement. He was keeping Oswald much closer than usual, his grip on Oswald’s hand tightening up just a bit with every second step in the sequence.

_If you give a little more than you're asking for, your love will turn the key_

“You’re all dolled up,” Oswald observed once he had gotten Victor’s rhythm down.

“Yes,” Victor agreed.

“Is there any particular reason?”

“Listen.” 

Oswald tilted his head to and fro for a moment, scanning the air for any unusual sounds. He gave it a half a minute before determining that there was nothing out of the ordinary.

“Am I supposed to hear anything else?” he asked.

Victor narrowed his eyes. It was the closest thing to his typical dominative expressions Oswald had seen yet.

“You’re a good listener. Listen right.” Victor’s eyes darted briefly towards the phonograph before returning to their gazing.

_Open up the heaven in your heart and let me be  
The things you are to me and not some puppet on a string_

Oswald gave a slow blink. Oh. Oh, Victor meant to listen to the song. He had been listening in the back of his mind, but he hadn’t thought Victor meant anything by choosing it. He’d never considered that Victor had the capacity to select a song primarily for meaningful lyrics. Very loving, if hyperbolic, lyrics. Whether Victor also understood that hyperbole, he couldn’t tell.

In any case, this new knowledge changed things. It was a lot to take in so suddenly. If he had been listening correctly, Victor felt strongly for him, to put it mildly. He’d known that already, but he hadn’t been sure of any specifics. He’d barely known if Victor felt much beyond a begrudging fondness and sexual desire for him.

Shutting his eyes, Oswald listened more carefully as they continued their dance across the room.

_Oh, if I stay here without you, darling, I will die_  
_I want you laying in the love I have to bring_  
_I'd do anything to be your everything_

The message was clear then. Communication had never been one of Victor’s strong-suits. He was good at many things: fighting, killing, getting into places he wasn’t supposed to. Talking with Oswald about their relationship and his feelings, however, had been a nearly impossible task. Whenever he tried to bring up the nature of their affections for each other, Victor tended to misunderstand or brush it off as though it was irrelevant. He was more keen on physical bonding, touching Oswald as much as he could wherever he could. At times, Oswald had assumed that he simply didn’t have complex emotions, if any at all, but clearly that wasn’t right. It seemed Victor was as aware of his weakness as Oswald, and had sought an alternative. Leave it to him to think to use a melodramatic love song to get an idea across. Leave it to Oswald to not figure out what he had been trying to say.

From then on, the same words were repeated as the music approached its climax. The air was different then, Oswald finally having an understanding of what was going on. Victor was intentionally suppressing himself. He’d dressed up, he’d put his hunter’s stare away, he’d picked a piece of music that said what he couldn’t himself. All for Oswald’s benefit. Not to say that Victor was selfish, he certainly wasn’t more often than not, but it was sweet of him. Sweeter than most anything he’d done before. And sweet was not an adjective Oswald would apply to Victor lightly.

As the music faded away and Victor slowed their movement to a halt, Oswald looked up at him once again.

“That’s how it is for you then?”

“Yes,” Victor answered quickly, taking his hands off of Oswald.

“In that case-”

“No!” he barked, his eyes twitching. “No. I’m not sure. It’s a mass in my head and my chest. I want to cut myself open so we could see and understand, but there wouldn’t be anything there. So I picked the best words I could find and it’s not close enough. Words can’t begin to-”

Victor cut off with a growl and shook his head. His shoulders drew up and he turned his head turned so he could avoid Oswald’s eyes. He clenched his jaw and his nostrils flared in a sour expression. Oswald had never seen him so irritable. He hadn’t even thought Victor could be irritable; he had always been so confident. Maybe that was why he had been so quiet before just then.

“You don’t need to…”

Oswald stopped himself as a thought came to him. Words had been the thing to frustrate Victor, so what made him think that they would be of any help? Victor was and always had been a physical creature first and foremost. He had thought of Oswald so Oswald had to think of him. He didn’t need to be spoken to, he needed a gesture.

Taking in a breath, Oswald leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Victor. He pressed their chests together are best he could, though, his chin just barely came up to Victor’s shoulder.

It took a moment, but Victor relaxed. He leaned his head over so the sides of their faces touched. His arms snaked around Oswald’s back and, before he knew it, Victor was holding him close, as a child would a teddy bear. Oswald had to stand on his toes to avoid being lifted off the ground completely, but if this was what Victor needed, then he would comply this one time. Personal comfort be damned.

“I can’t give you many things, Oswald. It’s not in me to do so,” Victor said at last.

He released Oswald, allowing him to fully touch the floor once again, and pulled back to meet his eyes.

“But I want to give you what I can and I want to give you more than that. Even if I can’t.”

Oswald couldn’t hold back the smile Victor’s words gave him.

“You give me more than enough, as far as I am concerned.”

“Do you mean that?” Victor said, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

“You say a lot of things you don’t mean.”

“Well, I do this time. When I say something to you, I mean it.”

Victor didn’t reply right away. He blinked a few times and eyeballed Oswald like something in his face would reveal all the world’s secrets to him.

“Okay,” he said after a long moment. “I believe you.”

“Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?” Oswald asked, raising his brow.

A thoughtful frown came over Victor’s face. It had been more a rhetorical question than anything, but, really, Oswald should have known better than to use a social nuance with Victor.

“Before Falcone was overthrown, I thought you would be a target,” Victor told him. “I was curious, but I prepared to put a knife to your throat.”

“Would you now?”

Victor blinked rapidly, eyes darting back and forth.

“I don’t believe I could.” He hesitated before adding with emphasis, “I don’t want to.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me. I’m not worried about that now.

“You don’t need to be.”

“I believe you,” Oswald said.

That got a snicker from Victor and he nodded with understanding.

“I think I’ve had enough dancing for one day,” Oswald declared. “Would you like to have lunch with me?”

“Food would be good.”

“Then we’ll eat.”

Oswald turned to head for the door when a thought hit him. He whipped back around to face Victor.

“One other thing: don’t dress up like that again, please. The look doesn’t, well, suit you.”

Victor’s lip curled back in a toothy smile. Without missing a beat, Victor was tearing at the jacket’s buttons and shoving it off of his torso. The shirt came off just as quickly and not without damage, and both were discarded on the ground.

“Horrible thing,” he hissed, shaking himself like a wet dog. “I don’t understand how you wear those all the time.”

“It’s really not all that- Ah!”

Oswald yelped as Victor came forward and scooped him up in his arms. He squirmed in an effort to situate himself in Victor’s iron grip. While he appreciated the transport service, Victor could do to be more accommodating.

“Stiff fabrics are bad for the flesh,” Victor said as he started out of the room.

What that was supposed to mean, Oswald had no idea. He’d largely given up on trying to understand Victor’s idiosyncrasies and ideas about the world. While it would be nice to have an explanation here and there, he didn’t need them everywhere. He was pleasant to be around in his own right. Strong-willed and imposing, yet playful and even simple at times. Beyond that, none of Oswald’s other colleagues had ever quite treated him like Victor did. Victor followed orders, but he’d never allowed himself to be cowed by Oswald over trivial nonsense. If Oswald pushed, he pushed back. He treated Oswald as an equal, an equal he liked a great deal. It wasn’t something he was used to. Victor wanted to do a great deal for Oswald by pure choice, that much was clear now. It was likely the only thing Victor knew how to do in expressing an affection. Perhaps Oswald needed to give more and ask for less in the future.

With that in mind, Oswald allowed himself to relax in Victor’s arms. If there was one thing he had learned over his years, it was that one always needed to start small.

**Author's Note:**

> If you couldn't already tell, I used pieces of Andy Gibb's _I Just Want to Be Your Everything_ for this fic. I don't like doing that kind of thing, it feels kinda cheap and sleazy for my tastes, but I felt it necessary to be specific about what they're listening to here. Much as it hurts me.
> 
> Also, this is my eighth Gotham fic and every single one of them have involved Victor in the forefront. I think I may have a fixation. I really hope I haven't grossly misrepresented him here.
> 
> Per usual, I really appreciate critique and corrections. Berating is also very welcome here.


End file.
